


Blindsided with Nowhere to Run

by Soak



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dancing, F/F, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Love Confessions, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), buuut these two are too precious together, this was originally supposed to be petrashe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:08:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24447841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soak/pseuds/Soak
Summary: It's the night of the ball, and Petra gets caught between a long-time crush and a tsunami of new feelings. Its up to her to take the right steps.--or--Our girl falls harder than a sack of bricks.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary
Comments: 8
Kudos: 60





	Blindsided with Nowhere to Run

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be Petrashe, honest! And then I wrote too much of Dorothea and Petra together, and I realized it was hopeless to fight against it. They're just too precious together, and treading that line of them being besties or romantic can get really hard sometimes. Especially for Petra here.

Petra held out her hand. "Ashe, would be liking to do a dance with me?"

She waited, mind churning.

Her reflection in the mirror wasn't terribly encouraging. The academy jacket she so often went without was... not the best fit. Tight around her shoulders, cuffs that fell short of her wrists. Her expression was not as confident as she hoped, even now, in practice. It'd only be that much worse if she managed to do the real thing.

She groaned, rubbing her face with a hand. Then, a deep breath. She stood up straight, legs together, hands clasped at her waist. Giving up wasn't something she'd do, either. She'd just have to keep practicing, they still had--she looked at the clock. Never mind.

"Ashe, you will be dancing with me." Spirits, no. "Ashe, I would like you to be honoring me with a dance." Somehow worse. "Ashe, will you be dancing tonight? I would like to be doing one with you." Too wordy.

Frustration bubbled over. "Ashe, we will- I am meaning, will you do, ah... me-"

Loud peals of laughter worked from the other side of her door.

"Dorothea!" she yelped. "Have you been listening in secrecy?" 

"Oh, no, not at all!" The door pushed open, the songstress inviting herself inside. "Why would I ever want to hear-" she couldn't hold it in any longer, continuing her laugh. "I'm- I'm sorry dear. I really am, I didn't mean to!"

Petra shut her eyes, falling back onto her bed with a frown. "I am hopeless. More hopeless that you had to be hearing it." She wanted to sink into the gaps between the masonry.

The mattress shifted as Dorothea sat beside her. "Some of them were fine."

She pulled a nearby pillow over her face, sighing into it. "That is not being helpful."

Dorothea grabbed the pillow, pulling it away. "Hey, watch what you're doing. Don't want to mess up all my hard work, do we?"

Another sigh, smaller. "No."

The Adrestian hummed thoughtfully. "Don't overthink it, okay? Keep it simple, confident. Here--" she shifted, facing her "--say it after me: 'Ashe, would you like to dance?'"

Petra propped herself up on her elbows, rolling her eyes. The words still felt weak coming out of her mouth. "Ashe, would you like to dance?"

Dorothea shook her head. "Come on--sit up straight, a bit of a smile. Yes, there we go! Again."

"Ashe, would you like to dance?" The words were slower, heavier, but she couldn't tell if it made a difference.

"Why yes, I'd love to." The songstress gave her a smile. "While he's better than most, he's still a guy--he'll probably be thrilled you asked him in the first place."

"I am not thinking so. My heart is still full of worries."

Dorothea reached out and touched her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "You'll be _fine_. You look absolutely gorgeous and you're better on your feet than almost anyone."

That brought on an involuntary smile. "I am... no, that cannot be the truth."

The singer scoffed at her. "Take a look in the mirror sometime then, will you? If the people taking me on dates looked half as good, I'd be married already."

An embarrassed laugh escaped Petra's lips, her cheeks warm. "Dorothea... are you saying you are wanting me to be your wife?"

A stunned gasp. For once, the songstress had no charm, no words to play like a lute. She shut her mouth that had been agape. "Might I remind you that you're _supposed to be_ flirting with a certain boy tonight, not me." A loud huff, hands patting down her clothing. "Now come on, or we're going to be late."

Petra couldn't help the giggles that kept rising to the top, keeping her worries to the back of her mind.

\--

The first song was coming to a close, the house leaders and professors finishing their customary dances. There was a buzz in the air, all the students closing in on the dance floor, a hundred pairs of eyes shifting to and fro, trying to find someone to ask. Well, except Petra. She'd been staring at a mop of grey hair for a while.

"I'd go now," Dorothea pointed out, "before someone else can ask."

"I am knowing this." Her voice was breathy, uneven. Spirits, why were her hands so sweaty? She tried wiping them dry on her skirt. "The timing is needing to be perfect, though."

"The perfect time is as soon as possible. Come on, just like we practiced."

"Yes yes, I am remembering." A deep breath. Okay, one more, just to be sure. "Be wishing me luck--" the words died in a strangled gurgle of consonants.

A bob of orange hair popped up beside him, Annette's trademark braids sticking out through the crowd. He turned, she smiled and talked some more, he fumbled and offered his hand as the music ended.

Petra whirled away from the disturbing scene, a million different emotions coalescing and plummeting through her, like a lead weight. She balled her fists together, also avoiding whatever sympathy her friend offered. A long, strained sigh was all she could manage, paying very close attention to the tablecloth.

"Ah, Dorothea! Would you give me the honor of a dance together?"

The figure in her periphery turned away. "Ferdie, you look dashing tonight. Ask again soon, will you? Petra's beat you to it, I'm afraid."

At this she did pick her eyes up, staring at the pair.

"Of course." The Aegir man looked over at her, giving a stiff nod. "Would you be interested in a dance sometime as well?"

Petra tried her damnedest to dislodge the frown on her face. He was blameless, after all. "Yes, Ferdinand, I would be liking that."

"Wonderful!" His cheery attitude returned in a flash, turning to recede into the crowd. "I'll be looking forward to it!"

Dorothea came back to her. "Well, there's one person who wants to dance with you, right?" she tried.

Petra couldn't help her frustration falling out in a sad groan. "It is not the correct person," she stated. "And it is two? You have been telling Ferdinand we are going together."

"Right, I did say that. Sorry, I wanted to make sure you're okay before people start pulling me away." She chewed on her lip. "Are you okay? It's just one dance, dear, there are plenty more opportunities tonight."

She huffed, trying to accept the logic in what her friend was saying. It didn't do much. "I had been hearing that the first dance is the most important."

Dorothea waved that away. "Oh, don't listen to that nonsense. Everyone's way too wound up, there's too many people on the floor--no, it's not worth it." She continued to study Petra as the string quartet began again. "Fine, I've decided. Come on, I'll have to prove it to you."

Petra found herself being pulled along by the Adrestian, filtering through the groups of students too nervous or shy, and out onto the floor. One hand grasped hers, the other settling on the small of her back. She did the same, unconsciously straightening her pose and shifting her feet. They'd been practicing for weeks, after all.

Dorothea led, pushing forward with a step and then settling into the calm motions of a simple waltz. The first few bars were... not her best. Petra misstepped and stumbled on her own foot, only staying upright thanks to her partner.

"See what I mean? And you're not the only one--Ignatz has fallen over already."

Petra peered over, seeing him being helped back up to his feet by Lysithea. He was blushing like mad, awkwardly trying to reposition himself with her and find their rhythm again. Then a whirl of orange and grey went by in the background and she found herself staring right back to Dorothea.

The songstress' face softened. "Relax, dear. It's okay, I promise." She smiled, one of those true, real ones that she didn't hand out so freely. "Let's just have fun, shall we? Maybe we can show some people up, hmm?"

Petra couldn't help but lighten up--those sunny smiles were her weakness. "What are you meaning-"

Dorothea halted, twirling Petra out to the end of her fingers, then pulling her back in. Her feet worked on instinct, following the motions they'd been practicing, until somehow she was leaning back into her partner's arm, staring up only at her face.

"I am understanding," Petra admitted, flushed. She rose back up, and they launched into the routines they'd tried out when the basics were boring. The ghosting sensation of watching eyes flared along her back, but she couldn't be bothered; her heart was beating faster, rising to the challenge of ever-increasing complexity and speed.

She found herself laughing, and Dorothea laughed back.

\--

_Let's just have fun_. Those words were her mantra as she waded through the evening. Caspar, so impressed from their display, immediately asked to go again with her. Clumsier, definitely, but his enthusiastic commentary made up the difference. Then Ferdinand, as promised, who was surprisingly excellent. For a tall man who spent a lot of time on horseback, it was a small wonder he was so light on his feet.

She had finally managed a break, her calves burning as she took a second glass of sparkling water. Arriving at an empty table, she slumped against it, taking in the crowd. Dorothea was right, she supposed, people were finally starting to calm down. And there she was--still dancing, her partner boyish but cute, following her along as best he could. She gave him an encouraging smile the whole way.

A pang of envy rose in her chest, and oddly, she couldn't tell why. She supposed he reminded her of Ashe, in a way--though dancing with Dorothea again wasn't a terrible idea either. Anything to put off asking for a little while. Sighing, she mustered the courage to look around the room, hoping to find him.

Over there, talking to Caspar and Ingrid. New and old housemates alike.

As she stretched, steeling herself to head over, a pair of footsteps approached.

"Ferdinand tells me you're quite the dancer." Petra looked over to find Edelgard herself at her table, eyeing her curiously. "High praise, considering he spends so much time practicing."

"Are you speaking with truthfulness?" Petra's anxiety dimmed as her spirits rallied. "The crediting must go to Dorothea, she has been spending much time training me on the dances of Fódlan." 

"Has she? That'd explain it then, though that must've been some serious effort on her part." A pause, pursed, like Edelgard had more to say. A smile grew on her lips. "She must really care about you, doesn't she?"

"Yes, she is a dear friend to me."

That smile stumbled, then Edelgard blinked and it returned to normal. "I had come over to see if you'd dance with me as well." She gave a look around. "Hubert has been... making it difficult to choose partners."

Petra couldn't help the surprise showing on her face. "I... Yes, of course I will dance."

"Wonderful." It seemed the mood of the night was getting to everyone, even their house leader. A small chuckle, then, "Let's see if the rumors are true, hm?"

They filed onto the floor as the songs and dancers changed. Dorothea caught her eye as they passed, a coy smile growing. "Good luck, Edie. She'll leave you breathless."

Petra's skin prickled at that. Pride? Embarrassment? She couldn't tell as Edelgard laughed, even, and formed up with her. Somewhere in the middle of everyone, no doubt the Imperial wanting to make a display of it. Raising the stakes, making it competitive to spurn them both on--it shouldn't have surprised her. 

The quartet started and immediately Petra found herself following, barely keeping up. Flourishes here or there that she could only react to, her feet pivoting and sliding on instinct. This was neither the same exhilariting fun she had with Dorothea, nor the slower grace with Ferdinand--this was a test, full of twists and turns that were meant to push her. 

Somewhere deep down, she sighed. Not everything _needed_ to be a way for Edelgard to examine those around her, but maybe that was enjoyable for her? Perhaps she should dance with Dorothea, let the singer whisk the house leader along something more fun.

The thought didn't sit well with her either. She'd seen the looks Dorothea gave her, the flirting that she swore was bit _more_ than usual. Well- that shouldn't be a problem. Why was it a problem? They were two adults--a dance was just a dance and there was nothing wrong with that. But then again she was hoping otherwise with Ashe, and spirits this was all so confusing-

"Are you all right?" Edelgard asked. "We can slow down if you need to."

She'd been frowning, Petra discovered. She shook her head, recovering. "I am fine, do not be worrying. The end is near, let us finish it with strength."

The challenge sparkled in Edelgard's eyes. "Good."

\--

More sparkling water in her hand, her breathing harder as she pulled back into the crowd. Edelgard had gone off searching for their professor, seeking a new challenge. Quietly, she said a prayer to the healing spirits for her.

A hand reached out and touched her shoulder. "Maybe I was wrong--you're the one looking out of breath."

Petra's face lit up with a smile, coming over to where Dorothea rested. She sat down, thankful to any and all heavens for giving her feet a respite. "Edelgard is... a partner with much challenge."

"I can tell." Those green eyes seemed deeper than usual. "Not that it was obvious, of course. You looked lovely out there."

Petra drank deeply from her glass, trying to cool down. Had it always been this warm? "How have you been?" she asked, maybe trying to change the subject. "I was seeing you dance with Ferdinand, he has much quality in his movement."

The songstress clapped her hands together. "Right? I knew every noble brat has to learn, but he seems to enjoy it. He's got talent, I'd say, though he could lean into the energy a bit more. It was a little... sterile, you know?"

She'd seen that word a few times. "Yes, the dancing of Brigid would be very odd to him."

"Oh?" Dorothea's eyebrows raised. "What's it like?"

She tried to explain to the best of her ability, the fine thread they wove with a repertoire of symbolic moves and the self-expression each dancer had to find on their own. Call and response was the best way she could put it, steps and signals that one dancer gave to another, who returned with their own. It was an evolving conversation, fiery and energetic; there were no series or rules to abide, just two people following whatever paths the music brought them.

Dancers filtered in and out, working through multiple songs as they talked. Likes moths around a torch, Petra was only dimly aware of them--of time--passing, instead finding a comfort in Dorothea's genuine interest, the curiosity as she asked for more, trying to understand better. It warmed her down to her toes, to have someone so intrigued by her homeland.

"I'd love to see it someday," the Adrestian admitted. "You know, we could keep our lessons going after this--though you'll be the one teaching. If you'd be interested in that, of course."

Petra nodded, unable to stop smiling. "I would be liking that, yes." She paused, more words lingering on her tongue, the bubbly sensation in her chest egging her onward. "Thank you for instructing me for tonight, it has great meaning to me. The time you have been giving so freely, I will not be forgetting it."

Delight streaked across Dorothea's face, though warm, not flashy like she gave so many others. The realization made Petra's heart squirm. "Of course, dear." She clasped her hands over the Brigid woman's. "I enjoyed every second of it, so don't feel bad, all right? It certainly helped take my mind off everything, with all that's been going on."

Yes, much, _much_ too warm. Her hands felt on fire and immensely fragile at the same time, hyper-conscious of every touch. This wasn't too odd for them, there'd always been an element of touch to their friendship, but now it was catching the breath in her throat. She felt dizzy--the understanding was beginning to dawn on her, and yet the _why_ was so hard to find. Why now?

Dorothea's hands retreated. "Oh, don't look now, but I think _someone_ is coming over." The enthusiasm in her voice was flashy again.

"What?" The word felt dry, all that she could manage.

Dorothea rolled her eyes, then pushed her gaze past her. "Hello, Ashe, lovely to see you tonight. Have you been enjoying yourself?"

Petra looked over her shoulder to find him there, hands behind his back. "Hi there, Dorothea. Nice to see you too- uh, two. Both you, I mean." He chuckled, nervous and flighty. "Sorry, it looked like you both have been having a lot of fun out there. So, I was wondering, would one of you like to dance?"

There was a pause, and Petra could feel Dorothea's eyes burning into her, waiting for a response. And she couldn't find one, her heart being pulled in too many directions at once. Her jaw was slack, her brain trying to make sense of everything. _Everything_.

"I still need a breather, but I'm sure Petra here would love to." She felt hands on her shoulder, light and gentle and so nerve-wracking, that helped her stand up.

She could only nod. "Of- of course, yes. I would be liking to dance, Ashe." Her speech was stiff, uneven. The world was hazy as she followed him out onto the floor. Her hand pressed into his as the strings began, her breathing fighting to stabilize. Each lungful of oxygen was starting to slow things down, make her see clearer. He was smiling, soft and sweet, meeting her eyes as they moved slowly around the others; stumbling though, here and there, his soles skimming over her feet as it became clear he was far from perfect.

It was still nice, though, something in her brain told her. It was what she'd been curious about for days, weeks even, and now that she was here, perhaps it wasn't a terrible idea to try to enjoy it. She eased into the pace, the more conservative movements, the simplicity that was enjoyable all the same. 

And then it ended. And that was it?

Petra thanked him as he thanked her, wishing good nights and more fun. It made her happy, a respite from the confusion, but as she found herself alone, the difference was stark. Her soul wasn't humming like it had, skipping and cheery and wonderfully exhausted. Content, maybe a little giddy, but nothing more. Not like before.

The doors were nearby and the open sky beckoned.

She found herself perched on the limbs of a tree before long, finding some shelter in the boughs. The winter air was cool, comfort for her aching legs, filling her chest as she tried to collect herself. Things were far too messy all of sudden, with her just being pulled along through it all, seemingly out of control. She had been building up tonight for weeks, for one reason. Then life, fate, whatever--it gave her another.

Petra buried her face in her hands, so terribly lost. Focus, she told herself, slow down. She tried to concentrate on the sound of her breathing, smooshed exhales into her palms. Closing her eyes helped her hear them better, a soft lullaby that started guiding her down.

Then came a light tapping of the low heels their uniforms had, fluttering into her senses. That wouldn't be important, if not for the gait she knew, those details she'd been so good at picking up. Graceful with purpose, each step a statement. Part of her didn't want to look.

She watched Dorothea walk further out in the courtyard, her head turning to and fro. Her hair, lovely as ever, seemed to flow over her shoulders likes waves on the shore. Every detail about her was sinking its teeth into Petra, refusing to be ignored. Had it always been like this, and she just hadn't understood?

Curiosity had her in its clutches before she knew it. Dropping down, she tailed her from a distance as the seconds and minutes passed by. Part of her recoiled, ashamed to be... fearful, anxious enough to be following her like this. And yet she couldn't help it, through the gardens and up the stony steps in some over-grown, forgotten tower.

She lost sight of her as she climbed, and with that tether gone, her thoughts returned. What _exactly_ was she doing? Was there any real plan, any idea behind this?

"So much for this silly little idea."

The words--Dorothea's voice--floated into the air, much closer than Petra wanted. The landing was only a few feet away, she realized all too slowly. But something in her tone sounded sad, tilted downward in a way that hurt. As long as they knew each other, she'd always been there to chase those feelings away from the diva, to listen and understand. She couldn't give up on that now.

Petra breathed in deeply, then stepped forward into the tower's zenith. 

There she was, looking away, bathed in the moonlight that filtered in from the open walls. Her shoulders were slumped, hands twiddling uselessly over each other, as she stared out over the monastery and the mountains beyond. She tensed as Petra drew in closer, her footsteps echoing off the stone.

Those emerald eyes glittered over her shoulder, widening as they latched onto her. "Ah! Petra, you scared me."

"I am sorry." Those words were small. "That was not my meaning."

She turned around to face her, fully, the night's revelations giving her a glow. "It's all right." A pause on pursed lips that Petra was suddenly trying mightily not to stare at. "I was... looking for you, actually."

"Oh?" Petra asked, involuntarily, before she could try to gather herself. "That is... I am meaning- uh, why?"

Dorothea shrugged. "I wanted to make sure you were okay. When the song was over, I figured you'd be ecstatic, but then Bern told me you made a beeline for the door. Did... did everything go well?"

Petra was at a loss for how to respond. Did the dance go well? Sure. Was she okay? Definitely not. Someone as keen as her would've understood something was wrong, and then it'd all unravel and she'd have to face these newborn feelings for real and she wasn't sure if she could do that-

"Petra." Dorothea was staring at her now, her tone firm. "Are you all right?" Her eyes kept searching her, and Petra was sure she was seeing through her, snatching at her secrets. Her voice grew heated. "Look, I'd rather not, but if I have to slap someone I will."

A jumble of noises escaped Petra's mouth as she struggled to respond. "I am- no that is not- do not slap someone. There is no need for hitting." A short breath, rubbing her temple as she tried to pull herself together for the millionth time tonight. "The dancing, it was nice. Ashe does not have much talent, but it was pleasant, yes."

A sigh. "Oh, good. Okay. You had me worried, dear." That look on her face hurt, the confusion and apprehension.

"I am sorry. Again." The words fell out all too quickly. Petra was vaguely aware of the foundations coming apart, that all she stood on was coming undone. "The dance--" yes, cling to something she knew, something tangible "--was nice. But it was not- well, I am trying to say, it was not..." Her heart was betraying her, veering her speech into dangerous territory.

"What you expected?" Dorothea filled in for her.

Yes. No. Not at all and not enough. "It was not as nice... as before."

"Before?" Dorothea echoed, eyes wide, hands starting to fidget.

Petra nodded, and suddenly there was nowhere to look, nowhere to distract her eyes. She wanted to sink into the masonry again, or to grow wings and fly out into the night. But giving up wasn't something she'd do, either. She'd just have to say it.

"With you. It was... not as nice as dancing with you." The air was heavy, sinking in her lungs, and yet somehow the words kept flowing over. "I would be liking another one."

Dorothea's mouth hung open slightly, staring right back. She had gone completely still, even her fingers staying interlaced. Nobody breathed except the tower, the wind rushing through the open, arched walls. And then, like the sun at dawn, she closed her lips and smiled. Her eyes scanned the room, taking it in.

"You... certainly chose a nice place for an encore." A small chuckle.

Oh _spirits_. Even she was nervous. 

Dorothea still walked in closer, pulling up to her like they had done hundreds of times, like never before. She smelled wonderful and her hands were gentle and the heat rising along her neck was unbearable. And yet they could still hear the quartet off in the distance, as the violas cut through the night.

They danced slowly, using only the simplest of steps. Petra was glad, anything more and she might actually fall over. She was too busy trying not to fall into her right then and there, still so terribly confused with all these feelings she hadn't time to sift through. But the moonlight was making it difficult, bathing everything in a sheen of silver that looked soft to the touch.

Her hand was cupping Dorothea's cheek before she knew it, the two of them staring at each other, breathless. She was beautiful, but she had always known that, hadn't she? Then she realized her feet weren't moving any more, that it was just the two of them, standing quietly in the tower.

She could scarcely breathe the words out. "I am... I have not had time to be thinking this over... if you are not wanting-"

"Shh." Dorothea shifted, bringing her hands to her hips, their touch like lightning. Yet her smile was brimming with warmth, her eyes drinking in every precious detail she could find. "I do. I have."

Petra barely managed a nod, fumbling to find any words to use and coming up empty. Her heart was threatening to come out of her chest, her mouth was so dry and if they kissed then that would be weird for her-

Dorothea's lips were soft, just like the tip of her nose that kept brushing up against her own. It finally took the bottom out from under her, as Petra gave in to her feelings, using her other hand to pull her in closer. She wanted nothing more than to lean into her, to feel her hair tickle her face, to sink into those happy, long breaths that she'd been holding in for so long. So she did.

They pulled apart later, as the tenderness of their kiss demanded. Petra still kept a hand on her face, reveling in the wonderful sensation of running her fingers over her cheek. Dorothea was breathing hard, biting her lip, shaking her head slightly, perhaps still unbelieving of it all.

"I am... not sure of everything," Petra admitted with a whisper. "But I am understanding now... you have great meaning to me, Dorothea. More than I was knowing."

Dorothea pressed into her hand, clasping over it with one of her own. "It's quite okay, dear. Take your time." Her eyes were growing blurry at the edges. "This is... more than enough."

Petra smiled, huge and happy and full. She pulled Dorothea in closer, their foreheads touching. "I was meaning... larger things. For now, I think I would like more--of you."

"Oh?" was all Dorothea managed, before Petra kissed her back, harder than before.


End file.
